L's Monty
by Scripta Lexicona
Summary: All Light wanted was a little sleep. So maybe his plan wasn't the best. But he never expected this sort of side effect. Or to enjoy it.


AN: I swear to goodness this started out normal. At least, not crackish. But then I was reading Death Note fanfic and watching an all-day marathon of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" and something in my brain apparently blew up and took all reason with it. Plus I could just see it in my head – especially after some help from my lovely Amans who would probably kill me if he knew what I'd used the research for (thankfully he'll never read this, bwa ha ha) – and it was both ridiculous and appealing. That said, onto the show!

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**L's Monty**

"_Yes … Light isn't Kira…. Or rather, I don't want Light to be Kira. Because … Light is my first-ever friend."_

When Light wasn't studiously pouring through information related to the Kira case or spending disturbing mental sessions debating the motives of Kira and his own similarly-aligned thought processes, this remark was one he often dwelled on. It bothered him, which was to be expected – after all, how often was one told that one was the first and _only_ friend acquired in twenty-four years of existence? However, Light could vaguely remember, as though recalling something from a dream, that when he first took in the stunning statement it had disturbed him on a different level. There was a hint of anger and indignation and, oddly, triumph.

Now, though…. Now there was just an air of general disturbedness. Because this was not what Light thought of as being friends. Friends did not do things like this. At least not two _male_ friends. And yet the teen had somehow become accustomed and almost resigned to it. There was surely something wrong with him.

"Liiiiiight-kuuuun…." As usual, Light pretended to ignore him for a while, typing away at the keyboard as the chain attached to his handcuff swayed and pulled lightly with the movements of the person tethered to the other end.

"Liiight-_kuuuuuuuuun_…." He was adopting that distinctly whiny tone that Light had learned meant he was fast approaching petulance. The teen finally relented and let his eyes slide sideways to glance at the slender black-and-white man beside him who was currently assuming his typical crouched way of sitting, though leaning so far forward Light was surprised he hadn't fallen out of the chair.

Seeing that he had finally captured at least some of Light's attention, L dismounted the chair and moved out from the desk. Still only glancing at the man, Light raised a brow, asking wordlessly what he wanted. L gave Light what was no doubt meant to be a sultry look although it was a little difficult to tell under the heavy fringe of his hair. The teen kept a smirk from quirking his lips as he turned his head slightly, granting L more of his attention. _All part of the game_.

Sans music the dark-haired man began a dance of sorts. He started by slowly raising his right arm, running the links of the chain through his left hand and letting the length trail provocatively along his chest and the side of his neck as he pulled. When his arm was straight above his head he spun slowly and smoothly on his toes which caused the chain to wrap half around him and pull taut between the two. L glanced back over his shoulder with a tiny smile and then bent back … and back and back until his right hand hit the floor and he was forming an arch with his body.

His other hand moved slowly down his chest, fingers spread, stopping just shy of his waistband where the hem of his baggy white shirt lay. Slowly again, he drew the hand back up his chest, dragging the shirt with it, baring his pale torso inch by inch. Then, in a move Light still couldn't quite track or understand but assumed had its origins in the capoeira L practiced, he kicked his feet up, twirled, pulled his shirt off and righted himself. End result: He was back on his feet facing Light, the chain was no longer wrapped around him, and he was shirtless. As much as possible anyway, as it was hanging on his arm, bunched up around the cuff.

Even though he really _really_ didn't think he should – and he tried not to think about why he _was_ – Light took a moment to appreciate the half-bared form that stood before him. (By this point he'd swiveled his chair so that, while still not completely facing the man, he was giving him a good deal more attention.) He supposed that no man really liked to be called "beautiful" but there was simply no other appropriate way to describe L. He _wasn't_ handsome – his features were too odd for that. But beautiful … definitely. Fey, ethereal, exotic. And that loose clothing did absolutely nothing for his thin but surprisingly muscular body. No, L was not conventionally good-looking like Light but somehow that just made the teen appreciate him more.

L had now "bound" his own wrists together using the chain and Light didn't know why – didn't want to _think_ about why – he enjoyed that so much. The dark-haired man raised his hands to his mouth and gave him a look that conveyed all manner of wanting and longing and pleading, and where the _hell_ had he learned that anyway? It had what was no doubt the intended effect of shooting straight to Light's groin and he shifted ever-so-slightly. The movement caused L to flash a creepily coquettish grin at him. Then he slowly dropped his hands to his waistband and flicked open the button. The zipper came next, drawn down with aching slowness. A twitch of the hips started the pants' descent to the floor and L let gravity do the rest. When they were pooled around his feet, he gracefully stepped out of one leg then swept his other foot up, kicking the discarded denims over to the bed.

And now the dancing commenced in earnest – L first unwrapping the chain from his wrists – and it was always a surprisingly sultry affair, especially since he seemed to incorporate a number of capoeira techniques. As with the last couple of times this had happened, a soundtrack had begun to play in Light's head, whatever seemed most appropriate to the way L was moving. And, oddly, there did seem to be a rhythm to it all as though L were listening to some silent accompaniment himself. At the moment, in Light's head, it was Finger Eleven.

"_Well, I'm not paralyzed,  
__but I seem to be struck by you,  
__I want to make you move  
because you're standing still"_

Well, L was certainly moving now. And good God, should a man _be_ that flexible? He was on his knees, bent backwards, arching and undulating in a way that made the heat rise in Light's face and something else rise in his khakis. The soundtrack abruptly switched to Fall Out Boy.

"_Why don't you show me the little bit of spine__  
you've been saving for his mattress  
I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me"_

Light could only imagine what L would be able to accomplish if he'd had a pole. _Was_ there a pole somewhere? Obviously not in this room, but maybe in one of the others…? Could he remember anything like that…? Realizing where that train of thought was headed he immediately ran it off the rails.

L began to pull himself upright, relying solely on the muscles in his thighs and abs, his arms dangling by his sides, back still arched and head thrown back as though some force was lifting him up. He continued forward, coming to rest on his hands and knees and slowly crawled the few feet to Light, eyes burning darkly, the tiniest of smiles on his lips.

"Light-kun…" he murmured when he came to rest just between the teen's legs, though not touching him. Opening his mouth he waited patiently and Light rewarded him with another of the chocolates the dark-haired man had been consuming earlier. With a sweet smile, L chewed the treat, closed his eyes … and promptly passed out on the floor. Light gave a sigh which did little to relieve his frustration and set to work.

Catching Kira was very important to him, probably the most important thing he would ever do in his life. He worked hard to hold his end up and keep pace with the detective but the fact was he simply couldn't survive on as little sleep as L seemed to need. He did his best but every so often he would feel the crash of exhaustion weighing him down and knew that a tired Light was no good to anyone. And it wasn't merely his own sleep, it was L's as well. He'd learned to be able to sleep while there was someone within close proximity to him, someone who _wasn't_ sleeping himself, but it wasn't nearly as restful. And how could he demand that L sleep? Some people just couldn't do that. So he'd devised this plan instead.

The first piece was easy as it played on one of L's quirks. Light had "taken" to chocolates and requested that Watari bring him some when he delivered the rest of L's many bakery and confectionary demands. It was a bit of a challenge for him to eat enough of the things each day to remain convincing, but eventually he was able to push more and more unto the ever sweet-receptive L.

The second piece was trickier but thankfully he had Matsuda's eager-to-please and not-too-bright person to prey upon. He'd requested from the young policeman (quietly and discreetly as possible given that he _was_ attached to someone within earshot) a bottle of strong brandy, spinning a story of stress and sleeplessness which only the alcohol could aid. The tale was accepted as well as the plea not to tell his father who Light didn't want to know that his son was having "some difficulty in keeping up with the pace of the rest." Matsuda, full of sympathy, procured the bottle for him and even managed to slip it to the teen without drawing attention.

The last piece was one of the hypodermic needles which Light lifted from one of the strategically placed and well-stocked medical kits scattered throughout the building. Then came the most delicate part of his plan – injecting those chocolates with the brandy. Not the easiest thing in the world to accomplish when he was kept within a 6-foot radius of the man he was trying to subdue. And of course all of this rested on the assumption that Light could get L to eat enough of the tampered sweets to overcome whatever level of tolerance he had. But he had to try.

So he had and, surprisingly, things had gone off without a hitch. That is, until L began his impromptu striptease. Never in his wildest imaginings could Light have predicted that sort of side effect. But still, it had the intended result of putting the detective to sleep and, sadly, Light had come to enjoy the show. Clearly the weeks of confinement were beginning to toll on him. It was hardly his fault, though. The man was _good_. In his less lucid moments it made Light wonder about the reason L had taken up capoeira. Surely not for such a purpose, but he wouldn't put it beyond the man to have appreciated the dual use.

Light stood and gently scooped up the unconscious detective, taking a moment to enjoy his sleeping face. It was so different, so innocent and open and relaxed. It was one of Light's favorite times to look at L. He almost wished the man could stay that way forever.

Shaking his head at himself, he carried L to the bed and laid him down in it. Quickly and carefully he pulled the man's shirt back on and tucked him under the covers, not bothering with the pants. He wasn't sure how L could stand to sleep in them anyway. Then he dug in the pants' pocket, locating the key to the handcuffs, and unlocked himself, placing the cuff on the bed. He swiftly prepared for bed, undressing and folding his clothes neatly, donning his pajamas, washing his face and brushing his teeth, then finally turning out the light, leaving just the glow of the monitor illuminating the room. Softly, he slid between the sheets and refastened the shackle (after all, he'd made a deal). With a small contented sigh, he relaxed into the pillows, preparing to enjoy a good night's sleep. And then the stillness was broken.

"Light-kun, if you wanted me to sleep with you, all you had to do was ask." Light smiled, both at the veiled suggestion and L finally breaking his silence about the whole thing. The teen had been wondering when it would come – there was no way that, even if he _had_ been getting drunk, he wouldn't find it strange to wake up in bed in the morning sans pants. Which could only lead Light to assume that he'd been doing so for a reason. And perhaps now he was bored with the routine. Or….

"Ryuuzaki?"

"Yes, Light-kun?"

Light rolled over and gave L a knowing smile. "If you wanted to sleep with _me_, all you had to do was ask." For a moment the man just looked at him – and then he gave Light one of those small, rare smiles. He turned further towards his bedmate and propped himself up on an elbow, leaning closer.

"Light-kun…." The tips of those long thin fingers gently touched Light's cheek and trailed down to his chin. The smile faded off the teen's face but his eyes still sparkled with invitation. The hand slipped to the back of his neck, thumb stroking just under his ear. Then L finally leaned forward and their mouths met.

Light let his eyes slip shut, concentrating only on the feeling of warmth and softness. And for a moment that's all it was, L hovering over him just touching their lips together, not demanding anything. Then he broke the kiss, pulled away, smiled at Light whose eyes fluttered open at the loss of contact. Before Light say anything or even smile back, L dipped his head again.

This time it was a series of light kisses, growing firmer, more confident, the man nibbling at Light's lips until they sighed open and he could slip his devilish tongue inside. The kiss deepened as Light's tongue fought back and he clung to the man above him, one hand in the thick black mane, the other one tightly fisting his loose white shirt at the small of his back. L's hand was still at the back of Light's neck, clutching insistently. Light was drowning in sensation and reveling in it – heat, breath, touch, _L_ – and tugged the man closer, trying to move him on top, between his legs….

L abruptly pulled away, normally wide eyes lidded, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. Light looked up at him in confusion, mind still swirling with lost pleasure. A gentle finger traced the teen's lips and he let out a breathy little sigh, tilting his head and trying to catch the elusive digit in his mouth. The man quirked a smile and planted one more kiss before saying, "Sleep well, Light-kun," and snuggling back down into the sheets, this time curled into Light.

The teen just laid there for a few minutes, shock making his normally bright mind sluggish. When he finally caught up with reality he wasn't sure which emotion to give into – the frustrated anger or the wry amusement. _Damn Ryuuzaki…._ He could appreciate the man's methods, though. This would be a fun new game to play, he thought with a smile as he relaxed himself, throwing an arm over the wiry detective.

And maybe he'd see what he could do about getting L to install a pole in their bedroom.

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AN: Capoeira is _sooo_ pretty and cool-looking, although I doubt it would actually be that good to use for stripping. Silly L.

Random aside: The daughter of one of our customer's _totally_ reminds me of Mello. She has extremely platinum blonde hair, cut in the same style, and big dark eyes. It makes me want to giggle every time I see her. Or suggest she cosplay for Halloween.

Originally written 8 July '08


End file.
